


Merry Wincestmas to All

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Dean, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff, Gift Fic, Inspired by Video, Inspired by pictures, M/M, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Roleplay, Sam tries to do nice things for his brother, Stanford Era, Tumblr Prompt, Voyeurism, all the best apologies involve oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:44:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten ficlets I wrote for the 12 Days of Wincestmas gift exchange on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Wincestmas to All

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely fandom-this on tumblr, she was a total sweetheart about all the delays. I would have had them all written on time except I was in the hospital giving birth to my son (my first baby, my miracle baby) for a few days and it's kinda gotten me a little off-track with writing.  
> So, here are the finished ficlets. PLease enjoy.

Part One:  
Sam initiated their first kiss, cause he knew that Dean never would. They were shoveling the sad excuse for a driveway at the current rental house in Gilford, NH. Sam was 16 and so in love with his brother that sometimes it just HURT. Dean was beautiful, and Sam wasn’t sure but he thought Dean felt the same way about him. So they shoveled, and their cheeks got pink and their hair got sweaty and their noses started to run and still Dean was the most beautiful thing that Sam could imagine.  
So, he threw a snowball at him. Dean laughed in his deep voice, roughened by the cold and threw one right back. Before they knew it, they were both laughing and in the snow pile by the side of the driveway. Dean was pinned beneath Sam’s lanky form as Sam shoveled snow into Dean’s collar and they both laughed so much that it hurt.  
Sam froze, for one second, loving the pure happiness on Dean’s face and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He dipped his head down and brushed his lips across Dean’s, soft but unmistakable.  
“Are you sure, Sammy? You… you need to be sure. I can’t…” Dean stuttered, uncharacteristically shy.  
“I’m sure, but I need your help to show me.” Sam smiled down at his beautiful big brother and when Dean bucked his wet, jean-clad hips up into Sam’s skinny hips, Sam felt beautiful too. Dean wrapped a mittened hand around the back of Sam’s cold neck and pulled him back down to meet his lips.

Part Two:  
Sam loves the cold. He’s not sure if it’s cause they’ve spent most of their time in colder climates or if it’s something else, but Winter is his favorite time of year. He’s always happy during the wintertime.  
Mostly, he’s pretty sure, it’s cause winter is the only time that Dean will actively allow cuddling. Dean is so vehemently NOT a cuddler, and they’re both such big guys anyway, that most of the time they end up sleeping in separate beds at the crappy motels they crash in. But, when it’s cold, Dean will let Sam nakedly curl around him. Sam can bundle Dean up into his arms and squash their bodies together, his soft, sticky cock tucked in the cleft of Dean’s naked and fucked-out ass, and act as Dean’s personal space heater.  
And, if Sam sometimes stays awake longer on those nights, or wakes up earlier on those mornings so that he can watch Dean’s smiling face as they cuddle, well, no one needs to know.  
Just like he’ll never tell Dean just how well he knows that Dean sleeps when he’s wrapped in his brother’s arms. Or the happy noises Dean makes in his sleep as he snuggles back into Sam’s warm embrace.  
And, if Sam is drawing up plans to build a bed that’s big enough for both of them to sprawl out in when they settle back at the bunker, well, that’s just Sam’s way of keeping Dean’s Christmas gift secret.

part Three:  
“ We’re gonna have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny fucking Kaye and when Santa squeezes his fat, white ass down the chimney he’s gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.” Sam and Dean both laughed at the line in their favorite Christmas movie, but Sam paused.  
“Dean, what’s he talking about? Who are Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye?” Sam squeaked in the middle of his sentence, causing his cheeks to flush even more embarrassingly.  
“It’s an old, lame movie Sammy. Dad used to make me watch it when you were a baby cause it was mom’s favorite, but I didn’t like it. Lots of singing and dancing, s’not funny at all.” Dean replied offhand, eyes still glued to the tiny screen and his movie.  
“Can we watch it sometime? Since it was mom’s favorite?” Dean froze, torn. As much as he didn’t really want to be reminded of his mom because it hurt too much, he could never say no to Sammy.  
“Yeah, today was your last day to school, right? Tomorrow we can bundle up and walk into town to find it. Now, c’mere bitch, I’m cold.” Dean lifted his arm and Sam slid in close, sharing their heat.  
Sam, predictably, fell in love with their mother’s favorite Christmas movie, singing the songs under his breath all day every day up till Christmas. Dean realized that it wasn’t such a bad movie either, when he watched it with a happy, smiling, singing Sammy.

Part Four:  
"Shit, fuck, goddammit" Dean cursed as the impala sputtered, coughed and chugged to a stop, barely letting him coast and stop out of the road.  
"Whazzit?" Sammy's messy bed head popped over the back of the seat and he looked at Dean blearily, still mostly asleep.  
"You never could sleep through a stop Sammy. Something's wrong with her, gotta check. We may have to spend the night in the Winchester Motel." Dean felt around the front seat for his scarf and gloves; upper Michigan in mid-December wasn't the warmest place. He zipped up his jacket as Sam blinked at him from the back.  
"S'cold. M'ere." Sam slurred as he reached over towards his gear and grab the beanie hidden there. He clumsily reached up and pulled it over deans head and down over his ears across the seat before he flopped back into his pile of blankets with a smile.  
"S'better. Okay." Sam declared before his eyes drifted closed and he fell back to sleep. Dean huffed out a laugh before taking a deep, fortifying breath and opening the door to the freezing cold.  
20 minutes later, Dean let himself back into the front seat, shivering and knowing that they were stuck there for the night. Tomorrow they could try and get reception on one of their phones and get towed somewhere.  
In the meantime, Dean was frozen to the bone. He sat in the front, rubbing hands up and down his thighs and then his torso, trying to stimulate blood flow, but nothing worked. He started to shake, teeth chattering hard enough to give him a headache. His eyes drifted closed even in his discomfort.  
Big, warm hands slipped over his shoulders, manhandling him over the seat and basically onto Sam's lap.  
"Stupid. Too cold." Sam mumbled as his sleep-clumsy hands began to pull off deans clothes in layers until Dean was down to undershirt, socks and boxer-briefs. Then Sam unwrapped his cocoon of blankets and pulled Dean against his own underwear clad body.  
"Talk tomorrow. Sleep now." Sam said into the top of deans frozen head as he wrapped his tentacle like giant limbs around his brother and the blankets around that.  
Dean felt warm, loved, small, and ridiculous. But Sam's breath on his ear and body heat eventually lulled him to sleep.

Part Five:  
12 days of christmas, wincest style  
On the first day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean, all of his virginities  
On the second day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean, two pints of oil  
And all of his virginities  
In the third day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities  
On the fourth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the fifth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the sixth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean, six sloppy blow jobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the seventh day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the eighth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean eight new mixed tapes, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the ninth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean nine types of pies, eight new mixed tapes, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the tenth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean ten flannel shirts, nine types of pies, eight new mixed tapes, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the eleventh day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean eleven deep back arches, ten flannel shirts, nine types of pies, eight new mixed tapes, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
On the twelfth day of Christmas Sammy gave to Dean twelve love confessions, eleven deep back arches, ten flannel shirts, nine types of pies, eight new mixed tapes, seven days of laundry, six sloppy blowjobs, five pairs of panties, four nudie mags, three diner meals, two pints of oil and all of his virginities.  
by stevedocwra on 

 

Part Six:  
http://cockslutwinchesters.tumblr.com/post/135575151569/abducido-koxzucker-rawpig69-omg-thats

 

Sam had been working on a particular gift for Dean for a long time. Dean, as anyone who knew him at all, was a bit of an exhibitionist. So, to indulge him, Sam started carrying a smart phone with a really good camera, and filming him getting off in public.  
Sam was hiding in his room in the bunker, editing together the filthiest video he'd ever seen. He was seriously considering submitting it on pornhub, knowing how that would rev Dean’s engine, when he stumbled upon a clip he didn't remember taking.  
It was Dean on a subway car, in his FBI suit with a raging hardon. The camera was at a low angle, low enough that Sam couldn't see his face, the camera at an odd angle but clearly focused between Dean’s slightly spread thighs. Dean’s hand was up under his tie, fingers twitching slightly and Sam could see his cock clearly outlined in his baggy suit pants.  
Sam panted as he watched Dean sneak his hand down and curl around his shaft. Sam could see his ring. The ring that Sam gave Dean but Dean never wears cause he doesn't need a physical reminder of his brother and how they feel about each other. Nor, he said, did he like being claimed as property, which was funny considering how much he enjoyed marking Sam up for the whole world to see.  
But it's on the hand that is sneakily trying to stoke Dean’s dick, and on the finger that says to the world that he belongs to someone, and suddenly Sam can't get his pants open and cock out fast enough. His whole body just flashed with heat seeing that.  
He never noticed Dean, leaning in the doorway, watching him. Sam was lost searching his own pleasure, cupping his balls, stroking the waxed-smooth skin behind them with the tips of his middle and ring finger just like Dean in the video. He's so close so quick. He can feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he sees the tremble of Dean's thumb caressing over the head of his dick. The camera angle changes and Dean’s thighs spread wide as he blatantly cups his balls and that's all it takes, Sam is coming all over himself while Dean watches from the doorway.  
Sam is whining with come down when he finally hears footfall behind him. He feels Dean rake fingers through his sweaty hair, nails scratching at his scalp making Sam see sparks.  
"Didn't know what you wanted for Christmas baby boy, but I see you liked it. Don't worry, you've got actual gifts to open in the morning too." Dean husked, pressing a kiss into the top of Sam’s head and that’s when Sam felt it. The ring was still on Dean’s finger.

Part Seven:  
Sam's Stanford Christmases  
Year one-  
He's not made any friends, burying himself in studying to try and get the memories out of his head. ("If you leave, don't come back" from his father. He can still see the shape of his lips forming the words. Deans resigned face and soft "I'll take you to the greyhound station" tear tracks clear down his perfect cheek.)  
He needs to study, to do well, to succeed. So, he's never been much of a social butterfly and truly barely noticed by the time finals were over and he was totally alone in his dorm suite.  
Christmas Eve came and went, Sam refusing to acknowledge it at all. Christmas morning came at 2 am with a ringing phone.  
"Sammy, Merry Christmas bitch." Deans words were slurred but clear enough. Sam, to his horror, felt his throat close with emotion.  
"Merry Christmas jerk. Miss you." The last words slipped out; it wasn't his fault he was so tired.  
"God I miss you too baby boy, so much. But you left. But I'm proud, cause you deserve better. So Merry Christmas Sammy." Dean stumbled over some of the words, more from drink thank emotion but Sam couldn't be sure. Before he could say another word, the line was dead.  
He cried himself back to sleep, whining for his brother.  
Year2-  
Brady, his roommate and occasional fuck buddy, had invited him to Aspen, to ski with his rich-bitch family. Sam declined but, seeing the disappointment on Brady's face, did so with a sloppy wet blow job on his way out the door.  
Christmas Eve came and went, though this time Sam was in an apartment and did have some crappy eggnog and watch "Christmas vacation" so as not to ignore the occasion completely.  
The phone call was at 2am again. Sam was ready for it this time.  
"Merry Christmas jerk, still miss you, don't hang up on me this time?" He's intended it to be forceful, but his tone was pleading at best. He heard breathing on the other end of the line.  
"Merry Christmas bitch. Did you know it was possible to miss someone more with each passing year? Cause I sure as fuck didn't."  
Sam's heart swelled at Dean’s words. They talked for hours. What Sam was doing, what Dean was doing, fond memories. Finally, Sam was dropping, he'd always needed more sleep than Dean.  
"Won't hang up till you're sleeping baby boy."  
Christmas was much better that year.  
Year 3-  
Jessica was a bright spot in his life, and Sam thought he might even love her. It could never be what he had with Dean, his first love, his one true love, his soulmate when he was feeling romantic, but it was good. He still declined the invitation to go to her parents for winter break. He's been looking forward to his yearly Dean connection too much.  
At 2am Christmas morning, his phone doesn't go off and Sam could cry. However, at 2:05 there's a knock on his door.  
"Merry Christmas bitch, had to actually bring you your present this year." Breathless, Sam flung open the cheap door of his apartment and threw himself into Dean’s arms. He didn’t cry, he refused to cry; however, his throat was tight, his chin quivered and his heart swelled as he smelled and felt and just experienced Dean for the first time in two and a half years.  
“Little big man, you gotta loosen the grip. I’m not walking away for a while yet. Bring me into your apartment, yeah?” Sam nodded into Dean’s neck and pulled him backwards into the apartment, never moving far enough away that their skin wasn’t in contact.  
Year 4-  
Jess was gone and Sam couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He and his brother had actually talked all through the year. Postcards from Dean out on the road and traded phone calls. Sam knew that this year, this time, things were going to change the way that he’d wanted them to since he hit 16 and relized that Dean was IT for him. Dean was his everything.  
He bought supplies and stashed them around his apartment. He stocked the fridge with food and beer and the cabinet with Hunter’s helper. Once he had Dean in his arms he wasn’t going to let go for as long as possible.  
Two am came and went. Two oh five as well. Sam’s heart broke a little more with each passing moment. He fell asleep on his couch at three fourteen. At six thirty four Christmas morning, Sam was awoken by a soft voice and a familiar hand running through his hair.  
“Merry Christmas Baby Boy.”  
“You’re late Dean.” Sam replied, his lips already pressed to Dean’s plush mouth.

Part Eight:

Dean hadn’t forgotten it was Christmas Eve, how could he, with the eggnog and the tree and the special gifts for Sammy, wrapped all pretty underneath the tree that they’d cut down themselves. But this This was unexpected. This was something special. This was Sammy, in half of a Santa’s costume, laid out across his bed oh-so-enticingly. Dean froze in the doorway, so many naughty and bad porn lines running through his head at once, and Sam looked up and smiled, the smile that had always belonged to Dean.  
“Well there, little boy, Santa has a special present for a special boy.Have you been nice or naughty this year?” Sam bubbled over with mirth and it made Dean’s heart race.  
“Oh Santa, well, uh, do I have to be naughty or nice in order to get this special gift?” Dean figured he’d play along for as long as Sam looked at him like that.  
“Well, a little bit of both.” Sam held out a tiny, wrapped package towards Dean. He reached out to take the gift and open it up. When he saw what was wrapped lovingly in the tissue paper inside, his eyebrow rose playfully.  
“Does Santa want me to wear his gift when I get naughty?” Sam’s smile grew even larger as he nodded slowly and gestured towards Dean’s small en-suite bathroom even as he slipped one giant hand under the waistband of his ridiculous pants.  
“He sure doe-does.” Sam’s voice hitched as Dean could see the obvious rock of Sam’s wrist. Dean felt saliva pool in his mouth and he was loathe to leave the eye candy in front of him but, giant exhibitionist that he’s always been, he did want to put on his gift and make an entrance. So, he slipped into the bathroom and shut the door most of the way before ripping off his clothes and grabbing for his gift. 

Part Nine:  
Dean had a hard time stuffing his chubbed up cock into them, at first. But he pushed through at the thought of what awaited him when he managed it. They were pink, with black ruffles and a bow at the waistline above his cock and his skin flushed to match when he turned to look in the mirror. He’d never realized that “Santa” even knew about this particular fetish, thank you so much Rhonda Hurley. Come to think on it, they looked remarkably like the ones she’d given him to try on all those years ago. With that thought in the forefront of his mind, and a question about it to boot, he managed to open the door, and what he saw took his breath away.  
Santa had gotten tired of waiting and rubbing himself through his clothes. Sam’s knees were up as he lay sprawled across the bed, his lickable torso on display and shining with sweat, his santa pants pulled down to his calves as he stroked his thick cock.  
“Guh.” Dean drooled, drawn to Sam like a moth to a flame. Sam smiled, arching his back up and displaying all that naked skin even more.  
“Well don’t you look nice, all dressed up for Santa. Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap and he can give you a ride like you’ve never had before?” The words were slow like molasses, like the hand stroking up and down his cock and Dean was helpless to refuse. He spared a happy thought that he’d prepped himself earlier as he kneed onto the bed and sat himself across Sam’s muscled thighs.  
He scooted forward, his satin covered balls dragging up Sam’s skin and the length of his lubed cock as Dean pulled himself up Sam’s body to get into position .Lifting up on his knees and yanking on the leg hole of the panties to expose his lubed hole, he took a second to smirk down at Sam’s lust-blown face and cheekily blow him a kiss before pressing the mushroomed head of Sam’s dick to his loosened hole and sinking down, letting out a long moan as he did so.   
“Such a naughty boy for Santa.” Sam groaned out, letting Dean do all the work, fucking himself on Sam’s cock.  
“Oh but I wanted to be good to get such a fun ride on your sleigh.” Dean huffed, his hands pressing down onto Sam’s abs, fingers flashing out to trace sweat along the defined muscles.   
Sam watched as Dean’s cock got harder and harder with each downward roll of his brother’s hips, moving and staining the pink fabric with precome until the head was popping out of the top of the waistband. Sam forced himself to loosen his grip on Dean’s hip so he could cup the cloth covered cock in his palm and rub the head with his thumb.  
Too quick for both of them, both brothers were stretched to the limit and coming, groaning and whining. Dean slumped down over Sam’s sweaty chest to catch his breath, pressing a kiss over his heart before another over his tattoo.  
Sam started to giggle as soon as he got his breath back, making Dean squirm on top of him.  
“Dude, this is the most perverted thing we have ever done. And my brother and I fuck like animals.” Sam snorted out between giggles. Dean went still and silent for only a second before joining in the laughter.  
“How’d you know I’d like the ...gift?” Dean asked with a wiggle of his hips, making Sam go still and quiet.  
“Uh, well, I maybe used to sneak out and spy on your dates, and well, Rhonda Hurley really made an impression.” Dean blinked and looked up to catch Sam’s eye.  
“You and me both Santa.”

Part Ten:  
The gift, and it was a well intentioned gift and expensive gift, caused the biggest Winchester argument since an 18 year old Sam told his dad and brother that he was going to Stanford.  
“What the fuck did you do to my car SAM?” Dean roared from the garage on Christmas morning. Sam booked it around the corner, slipping on his stocking feet in his haste and almost slamming into the door.  
“What? I didn’t do anything to your...oh. Well, we have an address and I wanted to get you something that you’d like and use and we are in the car so much…” Sam trailed off, a bashful hand on the back of his neck, wilting under Dean’s angry scowl.  
“You douched up my car! I told you about this!” Dean was boiling mad and Sam was questioning his own intelligence in his well thought out gift.  
“I installed satellite radio and paid for three years of service for you. I managed to even keep the tape deck in the car for you. I didn’t hurt your damn car Dean.” Sam started to get angry back, planting his feet and clenching his fists in preparation for this getting physical.  
“What have I said about touching my car? You don’t get to touch this car!” Dean shouted again and Sam just lost it.  
“Look jerk. I tried to do something nice for you, god-for-fucking-bid you should be grateful. No, that’s totally fine be pissed off. When you pull your head out of your ass and decide to be GRATEFUL, you can come apologize to me.”  
Sam stormed off, angry tears burning his eyes as he marched to his room and slammed the door. He’d thought about it so much. He’d planned and saved and once it was installed he’d set what he knew Dean’s favorite stations would be as the presets and he’d even made sure that the fucking stupid tape deck still worked. That was the last time that he did something nice for his brother, for sure.  
\----------  
Dean knew better than to drive when angry, but he didn’t want to be in the same building as Sam right then. He floored it out of the garage, reaching for his box of tapes as he kept one eye on the perpetually empty road. He shoved his Metallica “Black” into the tape deck and cranked it as loud as it would go, purposefully not even looking at the monstrosity in his car.  
HIS CAR. Their home. Sam keeps changing things; he hates change. The damn new radio wasn’t part of their car. It was wrong, unnatural and he needed to get himself under control if he was going to drive. He rolled down his window and yelled along with “Enter Sandman” as he flew down the road.  
Halfway into “Sad But True” something went very, very wrong. There was a smell coming from the tape deck. Smoke came out of the tape deck before the tape made a weird sound and stopped, silenced forever. Dean slammed on the brakes and skidded on the side of the road, staring in disbelief as his tape deck ate his favorite tape before dying forever.  
“DAMMIT SAM! SON OF A BITCH!” Dean threw himself out of the car before he did any more damage to his baby. After taking time to collect himself, Dean got back in the car and peeled back out onto the road, driving anywhere but back towards the bunker. Eventually, he got tired of the silence and, without looking, reached over to turn on the radio at least, only to turn on the satellite to the first preset station, Ozzy’s Boneyard.  
It wasn’t bad, and within two songs he was singing. He tried another channel only to find Classic Rewind. It was perfect. He scrolled through all of the preset stations Sam had set up for him and he had to admit it was better than his tapes. Well, he had to admit it in the privacy of his own mind.  
“Son of a bitch.” He sighed and pulled a u-turn to head back to the bunker and Sam. He knew what he had to do now.  
\--------------------------------------  
Lacking anything better to do, after Sam finished yelling at Dean, he crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over his head. He was so mad that his face felt hot, and didn’t expect to be able to fall back to sleep but he must have because he was awoken hours later, by Dean gently pulling his covers back and crawling up the bed. Sleepily, he blinked down as Dean sex-kitten crawled up the bed, plump lips pressing kisses into his legs all the way to his hips, where Dean stopped, green eyes still glued to Sam’s face.   
“Dee, wha” Sam started to ask, but one heated look from Dean’s eyes had his mouth drying out and words drying up. Dean’s hands trailed up the outside of his thighs, fingertips curling around the back of his legs and gently pulling them apart as Dean settled on his stomach between Sam’s legs.  
“Shhh baby boy. Never did give you my present.” Dean moaned into the inside of Sam’s thigh, reaching up and pulling Sam’s cock out from the opening in his sleep pants and pressing a kiss to the tip.  
Sam’s threw his head back into the pillow, humping his hips up towards his brother’s sinful mouth.  
“Is this how you’re gonna apologize big brother?” Sam moaned even as Dean’s sinful mouth sank down halfway on his dick, tongue curling around the underside and making Sam lose his mind. His hips thrust up, forcing his cock down Dean’s throat until he could feel Dean choking around him.  
“Fuck fuck FUCK” Sam chanted, his hand finding it’s way down to the back of Dean’s head. He never had any stamina when Dean deep throated him, and he could feel himself about to blow already. The embarrassment at that fact only made it speed up even more.  
“M’gonna” He gasped, looking down, wanting to see it, and Dean’s eyes were smiling up at him and that was just it. Sam’s throat closed and his body froze as he came down his brother’s throat. Dean swallowed it all down, keeping Sam in his mouth until the pulses stopped and he was mostly soft, then releasing him and crawling up Sam’s body.  
“Do I still have to say it?” Dean husked, his voice shredded and it made a flash of heat rush through Sam’s body.  
“Naw. All the best apologies involve oral sex.”


End file.
